An expression I couldn’t read passed over her face and then she nodded, the tightness around her mouth relaxing. But she still didn’t smile. ‘Okay, well, that’s good.’

I could tell she didn’t believe me.

Without thinking, I reached out and took her chin in my hand the way I would have done with any submissive in need of reassurance, holding on firmly and making her look at me.

Surprise flickered through her eyes, then, unexpectedly, all the tension bled out of her, her gaze turning dark as she stared back at me. Responding to my authority.

Holy shit.

My breath caught, my inner dominant waking up, and I said, before I could stop myself, ‘It’s not your job to doubt me, understand?’

‘But—’

I pressed my thumb over the velvety softness of her mouth, silencing her. ‘Quiet,’ I ordered, and her eyes went wide. She didn’t say anything though, and a small electric pulse bolted down my spine at her instinctive obedience. ‘I meant what I said. It wasn’t you. Do you understand? Nod if you do.’

She nodded, making no attempt to pull away from me, only watching me as if she couldn’t drag herself away.

‘Good,’ I murmured, that electricity coiling deep inside me, heating me up. ‘We’ll have to talk about this later, because right now I have an auction to manage.’

She blinked and I suddenly wanted to kiss her again, nip that full bottom lip, make her jump. I wanted to make her wary of me, so she wouldn’t see me as the safe friend I’d always been to her…

Except no. What the fuck was I thinking? I wasn’t going to put that shit on her. We were friends and giving her an orgasm didn’t change that, no matter how hard I’d got in the process.

Letting her chin go, I turned away so I didn’t have to see the slightly glazed expression on her face. ‘Get yourself another drink,’ I said. ‘I’ll come find you after the auction’s over.’

I left her to it, forcing her out of my mind and whatever the hell I was going to say to her later, concentrating my attention instead on the whole reason for the party in the first place: the launch of the Black and White Foundation.

This was important to me for a number of reasons, but mainly because the foundation was to help disadvantaged kids, and I’d once been one of those kids. My mom died when I was very little and my dad wasn’t able to hold down a job, since he preferred drinking and knocking the shit out of people to working. So we were poor. And when you’re poor the opportunities for changing your situation are few and far between. I wanted to change that for the kids affected by poverty. I wanted them to have opportunities, a chance to better their lives and find a way to get out of the poverty trap, and that’s what I hoped the foundation would achieve.

Good thing, then, that the auction turned out to be a massive success. The funds we managed to raise were enough to give the Black and White Foundation a great start. And I was expecting both Damian and Ulysses to be pleased by this, but Ulysses seemed preoccupied and Damian was drinking and smiling like he didn’t give a shit about anything. Except I knew he did because he kept scanning the crowd, looking for someone. I suspected it was for his date, but when I asked him where she was he said she’d gone home with a headache. Clearly it hadn’t been her he was looking for, in that case, but I didn’t press him.

I was a little preoccupied myself. Mainly with Freya.

The whole rest of the evening my attention was consumed with her, aware of her in a way I’d never been before. And not in the way a friend would be, that was for fucking sure. I kept glancing around to see where she was and who she was talking with, her presence like an itch I couldn’t scratch.

My brain kept going back over that episode in the hallway, replaying the way she’d looked at me, the heat of her pussy against my palm and the taste of her mouth as she’d screamed out her climax. And then, out in the gallery, the warmth of her skin as I’d taken her chin in my hand, the way her eyes had darkened as I’d told her to be quiet…

Yeah, I did not need to be thinking about any of that. At all.

Yet it was damn difficult not to when every time I looked up she seemed to be almost…glowing. Because there was no other word for it. Her skin was luminous, a pretty flush to her cheeks, and her eyes had gone as brilliant as the emeralds in one of Damian’s pieces. She looked fucking gorgeous, radiating heat and sex appeal, giving people that warm, generous smile of hers.

She was talking to some tool now who was looking at her with obvious interest, and who could blame him when she was glowing like that? No doubt from the effects of the orgasm, since I was pretty sure that was why she was looking so damn sparkly and happy.

The orgasm I’d given her. Me, not the asshole who was talking to her right now.

I’d never been possessive my entire life, certainly not of a person, not after the way my bastard of a father had treated people. And I’d never felt anything like that for Freya. Protective, yes. Wanting to smash some fool in the face for daring to talk to her? No.

Except that was what I wanted to do right now. I wanted to stride over there and get up in his grille and tell him to fuck off home and leave Freya alone.

I was good at controlling myself. My military training had helped keep those darker urges in check, as did driving myself hard at work, along with the occasional club visit. So there should be no reason for that possessive urge to rise up inside me, almost choking me. No reason at all.

But that didn’t stop the fact that it was happening, and if I wasn’t careful I was going to go over there and make a complete dick of myself.

It was like that orgasm had tripped a switch inside me and I was damned if I knew how to turn it off.

I ignored the urge as long as possible and then, when it started to distract me more than was safe, I went and found Morgan and asked her to keep Freya company for me. Morgan gave me a suspicious look, but I didn’t explain and luckily she didn’t ask any further questions, walking off muttering something about ‘dumb alpha males’. And next time I looked up, the asshole was gone and Morgan was chatting to Freya instead.

Better. Much better.

The auction finished late and there was a definite high energy in the gallery afterwards; people had obviously enjoyed themselves, many of them appreciating the excitement of watching expensive jewels going for outrageous sums of money. Especially since it was for charity, which put the stamp of virtue on everything.

I didn’t want to stay and socialise—like Ulysses, I hated small talk with a passion—so I left Damian in charge of wrapping things up since he seemed determined to distract himself from whatever was bothering him, and went to find Freya. She was staying in my suite in the Shangri-La in the Shard and she’d probably want to catch a ride back with me.

Weren’t you going to go to a club? Find yourself a bratty sub to punish?

Yeah, I’d been going to do that, sure. But that would be to admit that I couldn’t handle myself. That I couldn’t flick off that switch. And I had to. Because there was no way anything else was going to happen with Freya, no fucking way.

My temper was touchy by the time I found her waiting for me near the gallery exit, and it was not helped by the fact that the asshole who’d been talking to her earlier was talking to her again. And that she was smiling up at him as if he was the best thing she’d seen all week.

I tried to lock my baser instincts down hard, but when she spotted me coming towards her she flushed. Beautifully. And the possessive urge I’d been trying to ignore all fucking night rushed to the surface. Because it didn’t take a genius to figure out why she’d blushed.

Me. And the orgasm I’d given her.

That guy was still in her face and I wasn’t in any mood to be polite when I got to them. I slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her firmly against me. ‘Ready to go?’ I asked, giving the guy trying to chat her up a ‘What the fuck are you looking at?’ glance. ‘Limo’s out front.’

She frowned down at my arm. ‘Brian and I were just talking about—’

‘It’s not going to wait,’ I interrupted, knowing I was acting like an asshole, yet apparently unable to stop myself. ‘We have to go now.’

The guy she was talking to took one look at me, then gave her a weak-looking smile before sidling away. A wise decision on his part.

‘Excuse me?’ Freya demanded, turning and pushing my arm away from her. ‘What the hell is going on, E?’

I only just stopped myself from reaching for her. ‘What the hell is what going on?’

‘What you did just then. With Brian.’

‘I don’t give a fuck about Brian.’ My temper pulled at the leash I’d put on it, which was a bad sign, a very bad sign. I turned towards the exit before she could see how pissed off I was. ‘Come on, it’s time to go.’

And I strode out before she could say a word.

CHAPTER FIVE

Freya

EVERETT’S LIMO WAS waiting at the kerb and I followed him into it, more than a little annoyed—not to mention weirded out—by his strange behaviour.

Then again, I’d been weirded out all evening, so I guess that wasn’t anything new.

That moment with Everett out in the hallway had changed everything I’d thought about myself and I honestly had no idea how to handle it.

Sure, I’d often wondered whether it was the guys I’d been with who were the issue rather than me, especially when I could come perfectly well on my own. Yet those doubts about myself, about my femininity, had lingered. One guy had even told me straight up that the problem must be me, since he’d never had an issue getting a woman to come before. And even though I’d shrugged it off the comment had somehow stuck in my heart, along with all the other criticisms that my aunt had levelled at me. More proof that I didn’t measure up in some vital way.

But…it wasn’t me that was the problem after all, was it? Not when all Everett had had to do was touch me a couple of times to make me come in seconds flat.

I really didn’t know what to think about that. What was clear was that apparently, with Everett, I had no problem getting turned on and no problem coming in a public place, simply with him touching me through my dress.

In the hazy aftermath, all I’d been able to do was lean against the wall, trying to find the power of speech since it appeared to have vanished along with my thinking processes. And when Everett strode away back to the gallery I hadn’t stopped him, needing a couple of moments to get myself together again.

But then, as soon as I went back into the gallery, I’d felt all strange. Kind of exposed and a bit vulnerable. And I’d had half a thought that perhaps I’d done something to make Everett walk away from me, so I’d gone in search of him, wanting to know straight up if it was me.

Except he’d told me it wasn’t. And when I’d expressed my doubts, he’d taken my chin in his hand and he’d looked at me, pinning me with the same stare as he’d used out in the hallway. As if he could read every thought in my head, see all my niggling self-doubts. And then those doubts had fallen silent, everything in me going quiet and still.

I’d no idea why that had happened. No idea why I hadn’t pulled away, offended at him being a bossy, arrogant bastard. But offended had been the last thing I was. He’d told me I wasn’t the problem and when he looked at me like that I believed him. Completely.

Then he’d gone and spoiled it all by acting like a possessive dickhead in front of Brian, the guy I’d been talking to just before.

Everett didn’t look at me as I settled into the soft black leather of the seat, only muttered something about the hotel to the driver before subsiding back into silence.

But it wasn’t a comfortable silence. Even though his hands were in his pockets, his long legs were stretched out in front of him and he looked like he was relaxed, there was tension in every line of his big body.

He was angry about something, I could tell, but I had no idea what it could be about. He’d told me I wasn’t the problem, but if it wasn’t me then what the hell was it? The auction? Brian? But no, surely not that. He’d never had issues with any guys I’d talked to before, so why would it be a problem now?

It was all very strange because Everett was normally a very level kind of guy. He kept his emotions buried deep—hell, sometimes it was difficult to tell whether he even had them since he only rarely let them show. And I knew why that was. His father was a grade-A asshole who spent most of his time taking out his frustrations on Everett and his mom, and so Everett had spent most of his time trying to do the opposite.

Sometimes I wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to try so hard because he’d never be like his father in a million years, but since conversations like that always ended up rebounding on me and my family issues I tended to steer clear of them.

Though we were going to have to have some kind of discussion, that was clear. Especially after what had happened out in the corridor.

Outside, the lights of London slid past the windows of the limo while inside the silence deepened.

Everett made no attempt to break it, sitting silent and tense until I eventually lost patience. ‘Talk to me, E. What’s going on? Why were you being such a tool back there?’

‘No reason.’ The words settled into the quiet like hard, flat stones thrown into a pond. ‘Nothing to do with you.’

‘I didn’t say anything about me.’ I frowned. ‘Or were you lying when you said it wasn’t before?’

His head turned, his gaze a brilliant slice of sharp blue. ‘No.’

He didn’t need to elaborate. The flat authority in the word told me all I needed to know: of course he wasn’t lying. But he wasn’t telling me everything either.

‘Look,’ I said, trying to be reasonable. ‘You’re not the world’s politest guy, but you’re generally not rude. And you don’t tend to look at people like you want to kill them. So I’m guessing there’s a reason you were such an a-hole to Brian. Unless you are actually an a-hole and sorry, E, but you’re not.’

The sharp blue of his eyes got even sharper, but he didn’t say anything. Then he turned his attention back to the seat in front of him, a muscle twitching in his hard jaw.

Oh, yeah, he’d gone from stern Viking to pissed off Viking and I didn’t know why. What the hell had set him off?

So I waited. Because sometimes with Everett if you waited he’d spit out what had got him riled.

‘It’s fine,’ he said eventually, his voice deep and vaguely gritty, and I could almost see the effort of will it took for him to ease the rigid line of his jaw. ‘I’ve just got a few things on my mind.’

‘What things?’ I raised an eyebrow. ‘Anything I can help with?’

‘No.’

‘E, come on. You’ve never been this strange with me before.’ I paused, knowing I was going to have to say it. ‘Is it the orgasm thing? Because maybe I shouldn’t have asked—’

‘It’s not that.’ He shifted slightly in his seat, making me very aware of the fact that his muscular thigh was right next to mine, and that I only needed to reach out and I’d be able to put my hand on it. I’d be able to feel how hot he was and how hard.

My mouth dried as a pulse of heat went through me and I was suddenly very glad he wasn’t looking at me because it probably would have shown on my face.

Hell, what was I thinking? I hadn’t considered what would happen after my ‘Give me an orgasm’ request. Only that he either would or wouldn’t give me one and then we’d go on our merry way, happily being friends till the end of time.

And if it got a little complicated, then it wouldn’t be anything we couldn’t sort out ourselves. Because yeah, we were friends and nothing was more important to me than that.

Except this had already become more complicated than I’d expected. I hadn’t thought he’d have this effect on me. I hadn’t thought he’d get weird with me either.

You didn’t really think about him at all, did you?

Yet another wave of heat washed through me, though this time it had more to do with shame than desire. Because no, I hadn’t thought about him and how he’d handle this. Not one single iota.

Good going, Johnson.

‘I’m sorry,’ I blurted out before I could think better of it. ‘I didn’t think about what this might mean for you. And it’s obviously weird and you’re probably regretting—’

Everett’s hand shot out suddenly, his fingers gripping my chin again. Then he turned my face towards him and closed the gap between us, stopping anything I’d been going to say with his mouth.

This kiss wasn’t anything like the one he’d given me in the corridor, where he’d silenced my scream of release. That had been a simple stopgap measure to prevent me from being heard. But this…this was different.

This kiss was deliberate, intent. And this time he was kissing me because he wanted to.

It was so unexpected that all I could do was sit there in shock. Then his hand slipped to the back of my neck and he gripped me tight, his tongue pushing into my mouth, exploring, demanding. It was so freaking hot I couldn’t breathe.

The kinds of kisses I’d had from guys before had either been timid and hesitant or straight-up aggressive, without any finesse or technique, all clashing teeth and wet, probing tongue.

Everett’s kiss had as much in common with those kisses as a crappy sedan with a high performance super car. He took my mouth with a focused, highly controlled aggression, and yet with a delicacy that left me trembling. There were no clashing teeth, no accidental biting of tongues. No awkwardness at all.

He kissed me as if he never expected anything but for me to give him everything he wanted, and I found myself doing exactly that. Opening my mouth to him, letting the kiss deepen, get hotter, wetter. I moaned softly, unable to help myself because this was the kind of kiss I hadn’t known I’d wanted. Where I wasn’t worried about whether I should be more demanding or more hesitant. About whether I might taste strange or whether they wanted me to take the lead, or perhaps I should let them take it instead. Whether the way I kissed wasn’t quite right and maybe they wouldn’t like it.

I didn’t worry about any of that because Everett didn’t let me. He took charge of the kiss completely, leaving me with no other choice but to respond to him.

And I did, whimpering as the kiss got even deeper, hotter. Harder.

His hand on the back of my neck held me in place so I couldn’t have pulled away even if I’d wanted to. But I didn’t want to. I wanted to stay right there, kissing him for ever, the taste of him like coffee and dark chocolate and all the things I particularly loved rolled into one.

Shit, if I’d known how well Everett could kiss I wouldn’t have bothered with anyone else.

Then, just as I was reaching out to him to pull him closer, he let me go.

My heartbeat roared in my ears and my mouth felt swollen and achingly sensitive. There was a pulse between my thighs, heat in my blood. I couldn’t seem to catch my breath.

He stared at me the way he’d stared at me back in the gallery, intent, focused, and even though he’d taken his hand off the back of my neck I couldn’t seem to move. There was so much power in that look, so much authority. I was hypnotised by it.

‘You want to know why I’m in such a pissy mood?’ His voice was deep and rough. ‘It’s because of this.’ He reached for my hand and, before I had a chance to move, he pulled it towards him, bringing it over his fly and pressing my palm down against the zipper.

I inhaled sharply, shocked. Because I could feel his cock through the wool and he was hard. Very, very hard.

Holy crap. Holy freaking crap. Was that what kissing me had done to him? Or was he kissing me because he was hard?

‘No,’ he said, the Texas drawl he’d almost lost suddenly sounding very pronounced as he lifted the thought right out of my head. ‘I’ve been hard all fucking night and it’s because of you. Because of you coming all over my hand.’

I could feel my cheeks go bright red as heat poured through me, and I stared at him like a complete idiot. I had not expected him to get turned on by what we’d done together. It might have been naive of me, but I hadn’t.

No, because you didn’t think of him at all, remember?

That was true. But…this was only a hard-on and a hard-on wasn’t feelings. He was a guy. They got erections at the touch of a stiff breeze, so it might not be me. It might just have been a very natural physical reaction to how he’d touched me.

I blinked, the heat of his hard-on soaking through the wool of his pants and into my palm. ‘Oh,’ I said stupidly. ‘Uh, I was not expecting that.’

‘Didn’t think you were.’ He closed his fingers around my wrist. ‘You’d better stop touching me now.’

But I didn’t want to, because it didn’t seem right. I’d wanted something from him and he’d given it to me, and now it seemed like he wanted something from me and it was only right that I should give it back. Especially when I hadn’t thought of how this would affect him, not once.

Nothing at all to do with how badly you want to keep touching him.

And I did. The feel of him beneath his zipper was incredible. He was long and thick and…oh, yeah, very large.

My heartbeat accelerated and I had to clear my throat before I could speak. ‘Or I could keep on touching you,’ I said huskily, meeting his gaze. ‘Seems fair, right?’

CHAPTER SIX

Everett

I SHOULDN’T HAVE HESITATED. I should simply have taken her hand off me and told her no, that this wasn’t a quid pro quo and she didn’t owe me anything.

But I didn’t want to. What I wanted was exactly what she’d suggested: her touching me. My hand on the back of her neck, pushing her head down so she had to take my cock in her mouth. Winding her plait around my wrist and pulling it tight so I could direct her. Telling her what to do. How hard to suck. And then swallowing every bit of my come.

Poor Little. She was probably thinking of a short, discreet hand job, not that. She had no fucking idea.

‘No,’ I growled, tightening my grip on her wrist.

She gave me a small grin and waggled her eyebrows. ‘Oh, come on, surely one good orgasm deserves another?’

Really, she was so cute and so very sweet, and the last thing I wanted was to unleash myself on her in full-on Dom mode. I guess I could have said yes and gone vanilla, but I had a feeling I’d only end up even more pissed off than I was already.

She’d responded to me back in the gallery, responded to my authority whether she knew what she was doing or not, and the Dom in me was now awake. And it didn’t want her any other way.

Fuck, I shouldn’t have kissed her. Shouldn’t have shown her what she was doing to me, but I hated not being straight with her. That had never been the kind of friendship we’d had and I didn’t want to start lying to her now.

I didn’t want to tell her about the possessiveness, but I could tell her the main reason for my pissy mood and that was the fucking hard-on for her that wouldn’t leave me alone.

Unfortunately, though, that hadn’t cleared things up between us. No, it had only made it worse.

‘You don’t owe me anything.’ My bad temper prowled through my voice though I tried to keep it locked down. ‘I’m not keeping score.’

‘I know, but—’

‘No.’ I took her hand off me.

She looked stung. ‘I’m sorry. I’m not trying to push you or anything. I just thought you might want…you know.’

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